Berlin VIb
I am thinking
I am thunk.
Time to leave,
in a group dimension.
Can never be happy?
Let up it.
Murphy and his children.
Oh,
a division,
an entire
chapter.
We have let
most of our children
swallow us up
it seems,
it is never
the same
narrator,
always
a multiplicity
of voices. Divorce
this illusion.
My throat
for the whole world
to gag on.
An imaginary fireplace,
this world
an illusion.
It does
taste much better
when you
get the fuck away
from my throat.
Choke on
the chocolate
depth.
I am visiting someone
who works
in a soup kitchen.
Ain’t no solitude.
How lonely,
the desperate illusion.
When I
am alone
with myself
I am never
truly alone,
tell me
what freedom
is.
Sometimes
I sit at that table,
sometimes
at that one.
The need
to develop
a male ego
in times
of satisfaction.
But when
we are touching,
I protested,
we don’t need
to speak any
language.
That is true,
he replied;
certain breaths
attain a rhythm
of their own.
